“This reality?” he asks, and I swallow.
“The reality with you in it.”
He’s taking my request seriously. He doesn’t hesitate. He brings me up to his room and locks the door, opening a suitcase while demanding I undress.
I sling my clothes off so quickly that they lands on his head.
Georgiy turns and stares at me, one eye blinking, the other covered by my underwear.
“You look good wearing my clothes.”
He tosses it off and sighs.
“I’ll punish you for that.”
My ass twinges and my hole clenches as I think about what that may entail.
“On the bed. Now, Bane. Hands and legs outstretched.”
I do as he says, my dick already hard and aching behind the cage. The words that infiltrated my head and made me breathless are forgotten. I’m sure they’ll come back when I sleep, but right now, my mind is on a single track.
The one leading right into Georgiy’s hands.
I hope he makes me ache.
Leather straps are pulled from a bag and attached to my wrists and ankles, my body stretched almost to its limit. My joints ache, my muscles scream. And not to mention that my cock twinges in the cage, but he doesn’t undo it. Just lets me suffer.
Just like I asked.
“I know I usually tell you to be quiet, but this time,” he says as he wets his lips and stares down at me. “This time, I want to hear every scream. And while you do, I want to know how you got every scar on this body. Every one. And you’ll stay here until we’re done.”
“Oh,” I say, breathless. “Okay.”
“And Bane. You will not come until I tell you you can.”
I shiver, and Georgiy moves from the bed, taking one of the tables near the window and setting it near the bed. Then he pulls something from a suitcase. A scalpel, slim and shiny. The perfect toy.
“You want me to use this on you?” he asks and then pulls a machine out. “Or this?”
I bob my head in excitement. “I want both. Both. But I think I want that first. Yes, that. Whatever it is.”
Georgiy seems to understand what I’m trying to say and begins to set it up. A black box, wires hanging from the side.
He snaps latex gloves on before grabbing a metal plug from his bag and attaching it to the wires.
Oh. Oh yes.
“You going to shock me?”
“Yes. And you’re going to hurt. You sure this is what you want?”
“I don’t want it. I need it.”
He meets my stare and finishes attaching the wires to the metal plug. “Good.”
Lube appears in his hand, and he works me open, two fingers sliding in and out of my hole, wetting it for the intrusion. And I’m ready. Open. Willing.
I groan at the feel of it. I’m so close, and I know it won’t take much to push me over the edge. So I open my mouth to distract myself from coming.
